The Realm’s Final Gambit

In the world of Terramyr, the realm was once on the absolute brink of destruction.

In that distant era, today considered a mere myth by the races that inhabit the world in the present, the Demon King's army—arising from the depths of another world—advanced with a power so overwhelming that human forces had no way to resist.

However, when all seemed lost, a young King rose in the midst of despair.

The young man rose, and wielding a weapon imbued with a power so extraordinary that it fascinated the Demon King himself back then, the monarch managed to defeat him and repel his invading forces.

And following his victory, the young monarch used the strength of that very weapon to bring peace, unifying the world under his rule.

Since then, the most powerful kingdom in Terramyr established the tradition that only his bloodline would inherit the throne, becoming the origin of the absurd martial talent that characterizes his descendants.

However, despite the peace achieved, time moved on.

(BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!)

And after eras spent in the shadows, the defeated Demon King slowly regained the power lost in that legendary battle and once more initiated his relentless invasion.

"Haaah!!"

Regrettably, the passage of time erased the resting place of that legendary weapon, while the young King who was once capable of wielding it aged, suffering devastating losses that stripped him of the qualities required to command it, until ultimately succumbing to the inevitable passage of time.

(ZAS!!)

Yet despite this, his legacy persisted...

(BOOM... CRAAAASH!!!)

Amidst explosions, carving a path through a realm once again on the brink of collapse, the descendants of that king advanced.

"Insignificant pest! How dare you stand in the path of the Supreme Lord?!"

Cornered for the most part and utterly incapable of resisting the relentless onslaught of the invading forces, the main kingdom of Terramyr had been left with no choice but to opt for the only viable means of survival to guarantee its people's existence.

"You are nothing more than cattle before the Demon King! Die!!"

As a result of their defeat, the greatest realm of Terramyr signed a superficial peace treaty that was, in truth, nothing short of disguised slavery.

(SWOOSH... CRACK!!)

The stench of fresh blood filled the air as a monster blocking the path fell decapitated mid-stride.

"Get out of my way!!"

Due to the absolute disparity in power, the high-ranking leaders of Terramyr were forced to offer immense treasures and strategic resources as tribute to the Demon King, begging in silence to avoid total annihilation.

"I have come to put an end to the Demon King!"

It was through this abject pact that, from the public's perspective, the main kingdom managed to remain standing and project a facade of stability, even though the true power ruling from the shadows had already changed hands.

(Clang... clang... clang...)

Metallic, firm footsteps echoed with unyielding determination as she advanced.

"Do not stand in my way..."

However, despite the facade of stability projected by the kingdom, the population and the royal treasury suffered in silence under the extortionate price demanded by the demons.

"...Hey... Is that... Her..."

"It can't be..."

"Are you... the Princess?"

The endless delivery of treasures, gold, and strategic resources turned into a crushing burden that smothered the realm's economy and drained its finances.

"...That is correct, my citizens. I have returned to liberate the kingdom."

Every time whole chests of silver and valuable artifacts disappeared from the royal treasury to feed the invader's greed, a deep, bitter resentment bloomed in the hearts of the king and the rebellious nobles.

"Both my father and the nobles agree with my resolve... And today, I proclaim that I shall end the Demon King's tyranny!"

Filled with a desperate arrogance, the nobles began to plot behind the pact's back.

As a result, taking advantage of the apparent peace and the terms of the contract—which restricted the public deployment of monsters and kept demon guard presence in the streets to a bare minimum during daylight—the ruling elite moved their pieces in the shadows, investing vast fortunes to secretly hire the finest assassins, mercenaries, and magic-swordsmen on the continent, clinging to the blind hope that one of them might somehow manage to infiltrate and take the Demon King's life.

"My people!!"

Within the royal bloodline, despite the genetic inheritance conferring overwhelming martial talent upon its descendants, women inexplicably possessed a significantly greater capacity to channel that power.

"Throughout my journey across these lands, I have witnessed with my own eyes the devastation and suffering the Demon King has sown across our world!"

Over generations, as the royal blood diluted, this phenomenon gave rise to the revered profession of magic-swordswomen.

"That creature is the very embodiment of evil!"

Curiously, 99% of those who blossomed with this exceptional talent were young, beautiful maidens or women, predominantly possessing distinctive silver hair.

"But hear me well: as a direct descendant of the Great Hero King who unified our nation and brought peace in the past, I swear upon my blade that I will purge that shadow and restore glory to our realm!"

To the common people, they were priceless treasures of the realm and figures of pure admiration; to the nobility, however, they represented the ultimate symbols of authority and legitimacy.

"—Have faith in me!"

Because of this blind faith, the kingdom sent its most powerful magic-swordswomen, one after another, to the Demon King's castle under the banner of a holy crusade.

"....."

"..."

"...."

However, the disparity in power was overwhelming...

"Join my cause, and we shall drive the darkness from our lands!"

The Demon King possessed a force far more terrifying than they could have ever imagined, and not a single one of the swordswomen sent achieved victory.

"...I believe."

"...Yes... The Princess is strong..."

"This time... Maybe this time..."

Yet, the Demon King did not execute the magic-swordswomen who fell before him.

"We believe in you, Princess!!"

"We will follow you to the end!!"

"Lead us to victory!!"

Instead, he chose to inflict upon them a humiliation far crueler than death—a permanent mark of absolute submission.

"...."

Every single defeated swordswoman had her immense power stripped or sealed away by dark magic.

"...Everyone... Thank you."

Once disarmed of their strength, they were dragged to the grand plaza before the main castle—now under the Demon King's total control—where they were put on display, bound on their knees by magical shackles, forced into a permanent posture of apology for their disloyalty and powerlessness.

"I promise to bring victory!!"

The resulting impact on the realm was devastating.

"—Long live the Knight Princess!!"

"—Long live the Royal Bloodline!!"

"—Destroy the demons!!"

The population's morale collapsed entirely at the heartbreaking sight of their heroines and symbols of hope prostrated, forced to stare endlessly toward the fortress of the invader. And with every failed attempt, the number of shackled women in the plaza only continued to grow.

"...Wait for me."

And so, in a desperate attempt to counter the spreading despair and reignite the flames of rebellion among the people, the King chose to gamble his final card, sending "another" of his own daughters...

"...Sister... Master..."

...Unaware of the sheer despair that such an act would ultimately bring.